


talk and take in the view

by boys_in (kaleidosphere)



Series: Unwritten [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Chatting & Messaging, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidosphere/pseuds/boys_in
Summary: "What a beautiful Sunday morning this is.""Deadass?"
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Golden Deer Students & Claude von Riegan, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Unwritten [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919914
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	talk and take in the view

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Ever since I wrote [_words don't come easy_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341865) for MariHildaWeek months ago, I received enough support that I felt the need to write more in this universe. Here is the Dimitri/Claude side of the soulmate spectrum, in all its glory! Thank you for the continued support, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. If you are a new reader, the other fics in this series aren't necessary to read in order to understand this one, but just know that everything started with the MariHilda fic!

"Alright, class. Everyone will pick a partner, and you are going to talk about soulmates, your family, the book you read yesterday—anything you want. Only, instead of talking with words, you need to write everything out using paper. You can't speak a single word! If you do, you won't get the prize."

Although Claude was nine years old at the time, he knew a desperate attempt at getting a class to be quiet when he saw one. Luckily, he was feeling nice, so he'd go along with the activity, and pretend to be dazzled by the little "game" the teacher set up for them. The only problem, though, was picking a partner.

Claude was the "new kid" from Almyra. Needless to say, the transition was rough-going (he had to be transferred to a different class when the first one bullied him like no tomorrow), and while this was his chance to start over, he didn't want to seem overzealous.

He waited patiently for someone else to make the first move.

"Ugh," a voice whined behind him. "Do I _have_ to?"

Claude turned in his seat, and met eyes with a girl as pink as a rose. Her hair was long and put up in pigtails, and her eyes were shimmering with fake tears. The moment she saw Claude, however, the smile faded, and she sat up straight. "Uh, Claude, right? Wanna be partners?"

"Sure." He grinned. "Hilda?"

"Yes?"

"Just making sure that's your name. We're supposed to write, though. Not talk."

"Boo." She stuck out her tongue, and pulled out a piece of paper from her bag as slowly as possible. "Fine." She produced a pink gel pen, as well, bubblegum letters bleeding into the page. When she was done, she turned the paper around to face him, and he read:

_I'm Hilda. My favorite color is pink, and my birthday is the third of Pegasus Moon! I have a soulmate tattoo on my leg that says "I think you've mistaken me for someone else."_

Her handwriting was quite neat, and Claude frowned at his own penmanship. His pen of choice was black and the width of the tip was narrow, so next to her blocky gel letters, his scrawl was thin and wiry. He finished up faster than she did, and returned her message with one of his own.

_Hi Hilda! I'm Claude. I don't have a favorite color, but my birthday is the 24th of Blue Sea Moon. My soulmate tattoo says "What a beautiful Sunday morning this is."_

They exchanged words back and forth, really getting into the thick of the assignment despite not wanting to participate at first. At last, class ended, and they were forced to get their things together and leave. As they exited the classroom, Hilda asked, "Is it true that you'll only meet your soulmate on Sundays?"

"Yup," Claude said. "That's what the magic tattoo says. So every Sunday I go exploring. Never know when I'll meet them! Or where!"

"Can I explore with you?"

"No."

She gasped. "B-But, please! I want to!"

"You wrote that you hate doing stuff, though. Exploring _is_ stuff."

"Yeah, but soulmate stuff is _fun_. Come on, Claude, let's play. I'll be your bestest friend, okay?"

"My bestest friend?"

"Yes, if you be _my_ bestest friend, then I'll be _your_ bestest friend!" She held out her pinkie, wiggling it in an inviting way. "What do you say?"

He smiled, and locked pinkies with hers. "You got yourself a deal."

"Great!" Hilda giggled, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Now let's go explore! It's not Sunday, but maybe your soulmate doesn't know that yet!"

/

/

Ever since then, Claude made it a point to go out on Sundays, in hopes that he would run into his soulmate at once. His parents didn't mind his constant excursions, and he became quite independent because of the time spent away from them. His Sunday travels took him to all sorts of places (stores, graveyards, parks, zoos, restaurants, arcades), and when he learned how to drive in high school, he traveled even farther.

His high school days consisted of a lot of AP work, but also a lot of _fun_ as he brought his best friend Hilda along for the ride. It was around their senior year when they officially formed an online friend group known as the "Golden Deer," and their days became even more fun. But beyond that, Claude liked extending his social circle, for more reasons other than his soulmate. And as the years passed on, he grew to depend on his online friends as often as his real life ones, too.

Then Claude graduated high school with the rest of them, earning himself a scholarship to Garreg Mach University. He majored in chemistry, since it was his best subject in high school, but he also joined the university's debate team, as well as the archery club. Unfortunately, he saw Lorenz quite often, as the man was also part of the debate team, and their friendship bordered on rivalry which bordered on _hatred,_ but Lorenz was a Golden Deer through and through—try as Claude might to discredit it.

And, to be fair, he didn't count on any of the Deer to snag themselves a soulmate. Lysithea had two of them, but she cared more about studying than she did about fate. Leonie's soulmate had to have been unpleasant, if their "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but that's not the case" tattoo indicated it. Then there was poor Ignatz, whose soulmate was destined to break his glasses, as well as Hilda's who apparently "mistook her" for someone else.

Jeez, the Deer weren't having an easy time with soulmates, were they? And Claude's soulmate, in particular, was time-locked to one day out of seven. As in, if Claude's life was going to change for the better, it could only change on Sunday.

He never knew the details about Marianne's soulmate tattoo, though, and he never pressed her for it. She was a nervous person, but someone entitled to their privacy, all the same. Though Claude was naturally curious about her, he figured he didn't have to worry, since Marianne was the last person to encounter their soulmate out of all of them.

... _Boy_ , was he wrong. As soon as he solidified that thought in his mind, Marianne turned on him, and found her soulmate _first—_ not to mention that her soulmate was _Hilda,_ of all people! Hilda Valentine Goneril, who was lazy and noncommittal, but stalwart and dependable, all the same. He wished he could've seen the look on her face when Marianne arrived on her doorstep, and said the fated words which brought them together.

Claude wasn't much for theatrics unless it suited him, but he distantly thought that if his encounter could be like Marianne's—a fairytale that he can look back on fondly, and cause others to envy for ages—then he'd enjoy it so much more, and his years-long search for his Sunday soulmate would come to a serendipitous end.

Or something like that, anyway. Claude wasn't picky.

/

/

 **Claude** texts: _Wanna hit the park with me today? Like good old times_

 **Hilda** texts: _omg it's Sunday_

 **Hilda** texts: _not today bc i'm w Marianne :/ sorry honey u've got this tho!_

 **Claude** texts: _It's okay lol. Have fun. Be gay. Do crime._

 **Hilda** texts: _only if you promise to bail me out (;_

 **Claude** texts: _Never ;)_

Claude slid his phone back into his pocket. Today's haunt was Cethleann Garden Park, the prettiest public park in the entire city, with the greenest grass and a marble statue dedicated to the saint Herself. Though Claude wasn't overly religious, he appreciated a good aesthetic when he saw one.

Normally, he had two tactics in place for hunting down his soulmate. He called them "Search and Destroy." The first mode was to act passively, and let the world continue around him. This was made on the assumption that his soulmate was the social type who engaged others first, or at least, clumsy enough to accidentally bump into him, or some clumsy action adjacent. On days where he felt tired, he put himself on "Search" mode and took a backseat as life continued on as always.

Then there was "Destroy," and it wasn't as unpleasant as he named it to sound. In this mode, he would be more aggressive, and approach people first with topics of interest. When he had more energy, he'd go to outings in this mode: concerts, rallies, parties, conventions, any place he could go or get access into going. And really, this was how he managed to form half of the contacts he currently has.

This time, he was definitely on "Search" mode, and so Claude relaxed into the bench, eyes trained to the sky. It was the first good day in a while, and Claude enjoyed the sun while it lasted. Winters were long in Fodlan, and it was something he had to get used to when he was younger. He still preferred the Almyran heat, but he grew accustomed to the chilly weather of Fodlan, as well.

The sun felt like a thin blanket over his skin, and Claude had to keep himself awake, lest he actually fall asleep in this state. People walked by him in ones, twos, and threes—and sometimes more, their scents wafting past him as they went. He heard birds singing as they swooped low overhead, as well as babies crying in the far off distance, probably because of how tall and imposing the statue of Saint Cethleann appeared. He heard his quiet breathing escape him in rhythmic steps, and felt the distinct weight of a leaf fall into his hair from the trees above.

Then came the weight of another person sitting on the bench next to him, and Claude dared to open his eyes.

Was that Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd? It had to have been, because his face was so distinctive, even if it had been five years since Claude saw him last. The two of them were in the same year during high school, but on opposite sides of the social spectrum. Claude was a hummingbird drinking nectar from every flower in town, while Dimitri hovered to the same few blooms for years on end.

Basically, Dimitri was a jock, captain of the hockey team, while Claude was a brainiac who led the high school debate team and participated in the academic decathlon. Either way, they saw little of each other (didn't even _speak_ to each other before) throughout those years, serving only as fleeting thoughts in each other's minds.

Now, things were different. Dimitri noticed Claude first, and spared him a small smile. "What a beautiful Sunday morning this is," he hummed.

Claude prepared himself countless times over for how this encounter would go. He wrote scripts, acted through multiple scenarios, and planned out everything in his head. He expected every outcome, and often played games with himself wondering how the real deal would finally go down. As such, his response to Dimitri's soulmate-affirming words should have been refined, dignified, and composed.

Instead, Claude von Riegan stared wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and completely silent before blurting out a single word.

"Deadass?"

/

/

True fact: Claude's soulmate tattoo was placed on the back of his neck. If he took a mirror or used his phone's camera, he could see it without any problems. If he wore low-collared shirts, his tattoo would even be visible from behind.

It really _was_ a beautiful Sunday morning, to the point where Claude wore a casual sweater with slacks. He didn't have to look to know that his tattoo had begun to disappear, words coiling as golden light in the air before dissipating altogether.

Fun fact: Dimitri's soulmate tattoo was on his collarbone, which was entirely visible due to his v-neck shirt underneath his blue-checkered flannel. There was only one word there (one word, one question mark) to start with, but the way it disappeared with painstaking slowness _killed_ Claude on the inside, and he watched with horrible interest as the last of the letters peeled off his skin (and off his oh-so pronounced clavicle, damn it), leaving the question mark for last.

And much like Claude's doubts and fears, the question mark floated into the air, fading on the coming winds.

What a beautiful morning, indeed.

/

/

"Soulmates," Dimitri said dumbly.

"Soulmates," Claude replied quietly.

Of course, of the countless scenarios he prepared, utter silence and dumbfounded looks were included. Claude had to be ready on all accounts, because it would be foolish to assume the forming of soulmates would go by easily. He read countless stories online and heard them in person: about people whose soulmateship wasn't all cracked up to be, people who never got to meet their soulmates their entire lives, or people that chased relationships outside of their soulmates, damning whatever fate had in store.

Claude was an expert in those stories. His mother's life had been one of them, after all. Tiana's parents expected her to marry her soulmate: a young, rich suitor her age who knew her since they were both toddlers. Both families were sure that she would inaugurate the soulmate into her lineage, as it was a family tradition that went back for generations.

Instead, she fell in love with a man named Ahmir, and everything else fell into place. Kind of. It wasn't until Claude was born did the two families reconcile, and through loving relationships and mutual understanding did the Riegans become wholly united.

Okay, the truth was that once they learned Claude's father was a big deal in Almyra, Tiana's family quickly supported her, and took up residence in another country where they were seen as superstars: political, rich, drama-loving families that could be stars of their own television series, or characters in a book, movie, or video game.

Claude did not dislike his family. If anything, his mother was a great inspiration to follow his dreams. So when his dreams involved him making a name for himself and graduating at the top of his class, he arrived in Fodlan during his youth. He lived mostly with his Aunt Judith, but his parents flew in from Almyra time to time, and Claude traveled quite a bit, himself.

Basically, he knew what kind of complications soulmates brought to people. There were dark rumors of those that even _killed_ their newfound soulmates, or how some people mysteriously "disappeared" once their soulmates were linked with gangsters, undesirables, and other filth of society.

Dimitri, thankfully, was a normal guy. He looked uncomfortable in Claude's presence, but from what Claude could remember about him, at least he wasn't a serial killer.

"Listen, I won't hold you to some impossible standard," Claude reasoned. The two of them were now at Claude's important, impressive, and _expensive_ loft nearby Garreg Mach University. He had a modern taste in design and furniture, but a few decorations here and a few trinkets there showed off his heritage. Fragments of his Almyran culture, which were beautiful and inspiring to look at.

Or, in Dimitri's case, excellent distractions as he grappled for the right words to say.

Claude was already ahead of him. "If you'd rather not make this an official thing, I understand. If you don't even want to associate with me, I promise not to take it personally. Everyone's different, y'know? Hold a grudge if you must."

"Why would I do that?" Dimitri grumbled. He sunk further into the leather sofa, one hand running through his messy blond hair. "I-I don't mean it like _that_ , though. It's not my intention to—ugh."

"Take your time," Claude said. "And I mean it. Feel free to leave if you want. I know asking you to come here was pretty bold of me in the first place."

"I think it's a pretty reasonable thing for a soulmate to do," Dimitri insisted. "But thank you."

Between them was a coffee table, two cups of tea, and a platter of inoffensive butter cookies. Claude drank deeply into his favorite brew in the world: Almyran Pine Needles. He offered his large array of teas and coffees to Dimitri, but was surprised when he said that any brew would do. He had a similar mug of the pine needles tea sitting across from him.

As Claude drank, he couldn't help but think of Hilda, and how lucky she was to be soulmates with her best friend. Those kinds of interactions were rare, worthy of the silver screen. She got to avoid all this awkward first meeting nonsense. She got to go straight to the part where the soulmates are _happy,_ and loving every minute of it.

Claude wanted that sort of stupid, cheesy romance for himself, too. Not that he'd truly admit it. Though if Dimitri wasn't willing, there was no use in starting something that wouldn't work.

At least he'd be able to stop going out every Sunday in hopes of meeting his soulmate. That was one good thing for sure.

"I don't mind if we make it official," Dimitri said. He finished his tea halfway before setting it down to speak. "If anything, I—I've been looking forward to this moment my entire life."

Claude couldn't hide his smile if he tried. "Really?"

"Yes. So, uh, if it's okay with you, then I'd like to _try."_

"Try?"

Dimitri blushed, and started fiddling with the tears in his jeans. "Uh, do you remember my friends from high school?"

"Let's see. There was Felix, right? Dark hair, bad attitude? And you hung out with a couple of blondes, too. Oh, and _Sylvain._ " Claude smirked, remembering his good (and _insufferable_ ) friend. He wasn't close with Gautier in high school, but they almost had the exact same classes in college. Friendship followed soon after. "Yeah, I think I remember them. Why?"

"Sylvain is...I'm sorry for any trouble he might have given you."

"Not as sorry as I am for all the trouble _I've_ given _him."_

Dimitri chuckled, still not assuaged of his unknown hesitation. "R-Right. That's a good one. You're quite funny, Claude."

"I attempt to be," he said, shrugging off the compliment as politely as possible. "Are you worried about your friends? 'Cause you've got nothing on _my_ friends, trust me."

"No, it's just that they say things about me. Not to say that they're mean, or anything. We're all pretty close, and, uh, I've had my own fair share of problems in the past. So I just...I wanted to give you a fair warning."

He raised a brow. "About... _yourself?"_

"Yes." Dimitri looked quite serious. Claude remembered how despite his typical sporty behavior in high school, he was rumored to be a pretty no-nonsense kind of guy. Together with his leather jacket, white t-shirt, and ripped jeans, Dimitri was a man after Claude's own heart. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to be soulmates, Claude. I want to be _good."_

 _Whoa,_ he thought to himself. _I didn't think we'd get this deep right away. He wasn't kidding about that stuff, then._

_Time to do some damage control._

"You can," Claude assented. "And you will. But all I'm saying is you don't have to sweat it with me. I'm no cakewalk, either. Though I think you'll have more fun figuring that out than by me telling you, yeah?"

Dimitri stared long and hard, then finally gave in. "Yeah," he murmured, so quiet that Claude almost missed it. "Thank you. I know I shouldn't say this, but I was having a rough week. I think meeting you was the absolute highlight of it."

Claude knew there was no shame in falling in love with your soulmate, just as there was no shame in keeping things platonic or familial. He wasn't sure how he felt about Dimitri just yet, but if it was based on his words and his words alone, he had a pretty good idea of how it was all going to go down.

Like Claude's tea, everything was going to slip out of his hands, and he'd fall faster, and faster, and faster still—until he hit the ground in flames.

/

/

 **Marianne** texts: hey claude!

 **Claude** texts: hi! what's up

 **Marianne** texts: i was curious about how you're doing! how is everything with you and dimitri?

 **Claude** texts: he's the sweetest guy ever and i think i'm in love

 **Marianne** texts: ! aw how sweet! congrats

 **Claude** texts: thanks! i won't say anything too serious like that tho. i'm jk

 **Marianne** texts: you don't have to be. if you guys like each other and it's working out then i think you should go for it!

 **Claude** texts: sure i'll keep that in mind. but forget about me, wby?

 **Marianne** texts: hilda is...can words really do her justice

 **Claude** texts: wow that's gay

 **Marianne** texts: you're one to talk

Claude laughed at that. Marianne was really coming out of her shell these days, and he supposed he had himself and the other Golden Deer to thank for that. Not to mention all the effort Marianne put into becoming stronger, stabler, and more sensible on her own accord. Of course, her soulmate and best friend being the same person probably helped a lot. He wondered if they had plans to move in together, too.

He wasn't kidding about Dimitri in the least. The man was sweet, but reserved, and Claude didn't mind the change of pace—he didn't dislike stay-at-home dates or quiet alone time, contrary to popular belief. Yet he was absolutely positive that Dimitri enjoyed those moments of solitude far more than he did. It was obvious that he had his fair share of burdens, and Claude wouldn't want for those to be erased.

He only wanted to help where he could.

"You know, Hilda's been asking me for a double date."

Dimitri was on his phone, but stopped instantly at the mention of a certain pink-haired girl, his face screwed in thought. "As in, a date with us and her and Marianne?"

"Yeah. I haven't answered anything yet, so let me know if you want to." Claude shrugged. "If not, it's cool."

"Actually, I think—I think I'd like that."

A small smile. "You would?"

"Yes. I'm aware that we've been staying in for most of our time together. I mean, uh, we should get out once in a while." Dimitri burned bright red, and glanced at his phone. Claude realized that before now, he hadn't actually seen Dimitri's phone before. They barely texted since they were at each other's apartments so often. And as far as he knew, Dimitri's family wasn't particularly close with him.

 _So who was he texting?_ "That's great, I'll let her know. Also, uh, you okay there?"

Dimitri jumped in his seat, and a man as strongly built as he was ( _Thank the Goddess for_ that _one,_ Claude thought happily to himself) caused the couch to move with him. "Wh—yes, I'm fine. I mean, I'm—"

"Listen, I'm not going to pry. You don't have to look so jumpy."

"Oh, I know. I'm sorry, Claude, I've been all out of sorts today." Dimitri sighed, and placed his phone on the coffee table in defeat. "To tell you the truth, I hadn't told my friends that I found my soulmate yet."

 _Oh?_ "That's understandable. So lemme guess: now that they found out, they're not gonna let you live it down."

Dimitri paled. "Yes, that's right. Well, technically, they hadn't said the words 'Your soulmate is Claude! I knew it!' because frankly, they hadn't met you. But just, well, they know I found my soulmate in general, and now they're asking all sorts of questions. It's no wonder that I didn't feel comfortable telling them before."

"And what are they saying now?" Claude asked as he glanced around the room. He usually invited Dimitri to sleep over on the weekends, but today was Thursday, and yet there was a sleek blue luggage sitting in Claude's apartment. "They're—"

"Threatening to come to my apartment to talk me into a corner."

"Oh, Dima."

He blushed at the familiar nickname. He told Claude it was a name that close loved ones called him on occasion, but he hadn't expected him to use it so soon. "Can I please stay with you this weekend? Please?"

"Of course you can," Claude said. He walked over to Dimitri, and wrapped his arms around him, enjoying the fact that the man was seated, and that this would be the only instance in time where he'd be taller than him. "But my advice? Let's face them head on. They're gonna keep bothering you at this rate and you deserve to use your phone without freaking out."

"But—"

"Besides, even if they don't know it's me, they'll eventually figure it out, and come running over _here_ , instead. It's inevitable."

"...How would they know it's you, though?" Dimitri blinked up at Claude, and gently slipped out of his warm embrace. "You couldn't have told them, and I haven't specified who my soulmate was, either."

"I didn't say anything, but don't forget that the two of us are friends with _Sylvain,"_ Claude reminded him. "As in, the man who is mutual friends with us, who knows that the two of us had just recently found our soulmates at the same time, and who only needs a few good minutes to sit down and think before he puts two and two together."

And as if on cue, Dimitri's phone notified him of an incoming text. Of course, the phone was silenced (and had _been_ silenced since, what? The tenth grade?), so the only indication that anything new had changed was the way Dimitri's head dipped low over the screen.

Followed by an agonized groan of defeat. "Claude—"

"He knows?"

Instead of hearing the answer, _Claude's_ phone began to buzz. He grabbed it out of his pocket, and flicked on the screen to see:

 **Sylvain** texts: BRUH

 **Sylvain** texts: YOUR SOULMATE IS DIMITRI?! ? ? ? ? ?

 **Sylvain** texts: YOUR SILENCE SPEAKS VOLUMES. ANSWER ME MOTHERFUCKER

Claude laughed chastely, before placing a reassuring hand on Dimitri's shoulder. "You know what? Maybe we should check into a hotel for the weekend, instead."

/

/

Claude ranked all the people in his life by several categories, one of which was "List of People Who Scare The Ever-Loving Shit Out Of Me." Or, more conveniently, "List of Scary People." Most of the people on that list were his former professors, his Almyran distant relatives, or the deranged businesspeople that won't leave him alone about timeshares and the like.

The top five scariest people in his life went as follows:

5\. Aunt Judith

4\. Lysithea von Ordelia

3\. Edelgard von Hresvelg

2\. Tiana von Riegan

1\. _Ingrid Brandl Galatea_

Previously, his mother had been the scariest person he'd ever known. But once Dimitri's friends found out that he met his soulmate, and once they met up with Claude in real life to make sure he wasn't a "scoundrel," Claude realized his list was in severe need of revision.

Ingrid was _not_ messing around. Dimitri's other friends were easier to deal with: Felix was just as dark-haired and bad-mouthed as Claude remembered him being, and he was less angry at Dimitri's avoidance than he was exasperated at his lack of faith. He looked like he needed a severely long nap, and maybe a good hug for measure.

Then there was Dedue, a mountain of a man with the kindest smile. He was quiet, reticent, and polite, and Claude suspected he was only there to make sure that Dimitri's other friends didn't _kill_ Claude for sneaking around with Dimitri, soulmate or not.

Sylvain was there, too, and he had a shit-eating grin that boasted _You really thought you could hide it from me._ Claude hadn't seen him recently, so it felt nice to see his face, but then he remembered that Sylvain was the only guy capable of beating his ass in backgammon—and his stinging 0-7 losing streak resurfaced in his mind like a swamp beastie.

Ingrid was something else. Ingrid glared at him with little remorse, and when the other friends had their say, she pulled Claude to the side, promising sweet vengeance if he ever even _considered_ hurting Dimitri. If he ever _thought_ about it, even in passing, she'd be there to punish him. With or without her degree in self-defense or certifications in three martial arts (though those certainly helped), Claude agreed that wasn't something he would ever want.

"Hey, now, I'm almost surprised as you lot," Claude defended himself in a half-joking tone. Everyone except Sylvain seemed concerned by his lackadaisical manner, but Claude stood strong in their presence. "You know, I'm actually glad you guys are here. Dimitri's pretty lucky to have friends that care so much about him."

Dimitri, who had resigned himself into the furthest corner of the room, made a choking noise. Felix raised a brow but (thankfully) stayed silent, Ingrid scoffed, Sylvain laughed, and Dedue exhaled audibly. For the most part, Claude had done his job of reassuring them that _he_ wasn't the serial killer in this relationship (which of course he wasn't), and felt a big weight come off his shoulders because of it.

Soulmate discovery was an uphill battle, but only because the view at the top was so very grand.

/

/

"How do I look?" Dimitri asked.

Claude glanced at his attire and smiled: Dimitri wore a neat blue button-up, the same color as his eyes, with black slacks that were _just_ form-fitting enough to fill in the gaps, but loose enough to leave a little bit to the imagination. His hair was usually messy and unkempt, but today he made an obvious attempt at styling. Only Dimitri could pull off that lazy but wild look, with several strands pinned up to the side while the rest fell around his shoulders.

He absolutely loved it.

He loved it enough to say, "You look incredible as always." Then he reached up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Dimitri's cheek. "Shame that I have to share you with Hilda and Marianne tonight."

"You—" Dimitri wasn't nearly as good at putting words together as Claude was, but what he lacked in articulation, he made up with sincerity. He pressed his forehead against Claude's in a quick motion, barely brushing his lips past the bridge of his nose. "I should be the one saying that, not you."

"We can both say it, accept it, and have a good time with my friends regardless." Claude laughed as he pulled back, smiling never lessening. "Well?"

"That's fine by me," Dimitri admitted. He made sure to grab his keys, phone, and wallet. Once he had all those things with him, he walked towards the front door, and held it open for Claude. "After you."

Claude strode by him wordlessly, brushing against his hand with some semblance of longing, before disappearing down the hallway of the apartment. "I call shotgun."

"Of course."

He closed the door after him, locking their home into a vortex of darkness.

Ready to go outside and embrace the light.

/

/

"Hilda, would you _stop_ laughing? What is _so_ funny about his soulmate tattoo that you—"

" _Bro,"_ she groaned, barely standing with Marianne's help (who was equally caught up in the moment, lost for words and breathing squeakily), mouth twisted into a wide smile. "The tattoo literally said _deadass_ and you're asking _me_ why _I'm_ laughing?"

"Is it so funny?" Dimitri blushed. It was his neck that the tattoo was embedded in, after all. He was the one that had to deal with that every day of his life. "To be honest, I didn't know what it meant until recently. My family is a little old-fashioned, y'see."

"And your friends are cruel in the kindest of ways," Claude agreed with a sigh. "Listen, don't worry so much about it. It's not nearly as funny as Hilda makes it out to be."

"Yeah, that's 'cause it's _funnier,"_ Hilda insisted. "Okay, okay, sorry, I'm good now. That's the best thing I've heard in awhile, lemme tell you."

Marianne smiled sheepishly. "It's okay," she reassured Dimitri. "There are far more embarrassing tattoos out there."

He withered, but not too much. "Like what?" Dimitri asked.

Marianne, who was apparently as shy as Dimitri (which was quite comforting, in actuality), turned her gaze away with equal amounts of embarrassment. "Uh, I guess, like—"

"Something like 'Move out of the way,' or 'Your hair stinks!' I knew a girl back in preschool whose soulmate tattoo said 'I hate you!' and at the time, that was serious business." Hilda immediately switched gears, and went from teasing Dimitri to chatting him up like an old friend. She had a similar gait and manner to Claude, he realized. It was no surprise they were friends. "So I poke fun, but, really, you struck out lucky."

Dimitri glanced to Claude—who was busy actually _ordering_ from the waiter who appeared nearly out of thin air—and felt a warmth blossom within him. He nodded once and said, "I really did."

The rest of the night was spent happily: Hilda and Claude chatting up a storm, Marianne occasionally interjecting with some random comment (despite her calm appearance, she really had a clumsy air about her), and Dimitri nodding silently and making noises in reaction to whatever nonsense the others were stirring up. But through it all, he didn't hate it.

No, he loved it that night. The night when they ate food, drank wine, and shared stories (both good _and_ bad, much to Dimitri's equal dismay and delight) around a small table, talking late into the hour until the lights dimmed and the candles looked infinitely brighter. Then, after eating, they strolled the boulevard, and took in the night scenery with awe. Marianne clung to Hilda's arm, and Hilda pointed out all the tall buildings, neon signs, and famous sightseeing spots. She was loud until Marianne fell into silence, and Dimitri oddly didn't hear a word from them for the greater part of the night.

That left Dimitri with Claude, who unlike Marianne, hadn't clung onto any part of him yet. He stood closeby, mere inches away, but kept his gaze to the streets where cars (lots of fast-paced night racers were out, along with lowriders that had their bass boosted to impossible levels) flooded the roads like water, mechanical lights twinkling like stars in the sky.

It was at this point that Dimitri realized Claude's free hand was empty and hanging uselessly at his side. Throughout most of their newfound relationship, Claude had been the one engaging in most of the romantic gestures, and most of the socialization in general. If it hadn't been for him, Dimitri wouldn't have known what to do with his friends—if they'd accept him or not, or if he'd spend his whole life isolating himself with his soulmate. It's what his mother did when she found his father. It's what Edelgard's father did after he divorced her mother, leading their fractured family to Dimitri. He knew about the trouble that soulmates could bring, and he spent a long time of his life worrying about his own.

Now that he stood there, next to Claude, he realized that there was nothing to worry about. Dimitri became extremely lucky that his soulmate was the perfect person to balance out his unbalanced heart—the only one capable of seeing his true self.

And for that, he deserved more than just a silent night of observation. Dimitri reached out for Claude's hand, glancing past his fingers with his own, before interlocking their hands at once. "Don't look so surprised," he said to Claude, after the latter nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden contact. "I've been waiting for this moment all night."

"Ha, couldn't wait 'til we got home, could we?" Claude's smile was small and ineffectual, but there was a real _strength_ to his hands as he held Dimitri's wrist close to his own. "That's okay. I couldn't, either."

The world was noisy for the longest time leading up to their kiss, and when it finally happened, Dimitri felt as if everything froze in place: lights that glared off the sidewalk, people that spoke in hushed whispers, skies that bled black and dark blue with an indecipherable haze of stars and helicopters in its midst, and friends who were only a stone's throw away—just mere _feet_ from their invincible bubble of time.

Then Claude and Dimitri kissed, soft and slow, until everything moved back as if in a retrograde, the screeching lights and noise heralding the night air around them. When they pulled away, it felt like two puzzle pieces coming apart, temporarily disjointed until their unity was found again. Separated only so they could know what it was like to be together, again.

Claude didn't say anything, for once. And Dimitri had a thousand words to describe what he just felt.

But he kept it all in, and settled for wordlessly holding his hand, getting dragged along by Hilda when she finally noticed them lagging behind.

Basking in the light once and for all.


End file.
